Taming Romeo

by Rachelle Ayala

  When I head to the dumpster to throw out the recyclables, he grabs my elbow and pulls me to the neighboring alley. “Are you pregnant?”

  “It’s none of your business if I am.” I yank away from him.

  “Last night.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Let me go to the pharmacy.”

  He takes ahold of my face and lays a tender kiss on my lips. “If there’s a chance, let it be.”

  “How can you say that? I have to go back to med school. I have my life in front of me.”

  He lays a finger on my lips. “I only ask you to think before you act.”

  “You don’t need me or a baby. It was one night, Romeo. And it’s over. Walk away, like you did this morning. Go.” I point down the alley toward the street.

  “Wait. I can explain. My mother—”

  “I don’t want to hear about your mother.” I throw my fists at his chest. “She hates me. Now she hates my mother.”

  “Evie, calm down. We can work it out.” He grabs both my wrists, but I kick his shins.

  “Leave me alone, slimeball. I don’t want to see you again. I hate you.” I’m bordering on hysterical. Okay, maybe I’m crossing a line, but dammit. He’s an actor. He lies for a living. Nothing he says in the throes of passion is real.

  I twist away from him and stumble toward the back door.

  “You’ll let me know, won’t you?” He blocks my progress.

  “I’ll text you. Thanks for saving my life.”

  He doesn’t stop me from walking away.

  Chapter 15

  “Evie, open up.” Choco knocks on my bedroom door. Our restaurant closes at ten p.m. and she hadn’t been able to get to the pharmacy until well after eleven-thirty.

  Me? I was watched and coddled by Mama and Papa. Even Genie softened her stance toward me when she tugged my sleeve and said, “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  I gave her a hug and a kiss and I think things are stable between us, for now. Besides, I suspect she saw my blowup with Romeo, or at least the end of it when I kicked his shins. She was lurking at the back door and God knows how much of it she heard.

  No time to worry. I open the door and Choco rushes in with a little brown bag. “Fifty dollars.”

  “Thanks, I’ll pay you right now.” I dig through my purse and pull out three twenties. “Here. Keep the change.”

  “So, what’s up with Romeo? I heard you told him off. Said you hated him and didn’t want to see him again.”

  Bingo! Someone was spying on me this afternoon.

  “He’s a player. I don’t have time to watch the soap operas he stars in, but I bet he’s memorized every sweet, sappy line he uses to seduce women.”

  “That sucks. He used to be nice. But you know how it is with handsome guys. They’re spoiled by all the women who let them get away with being assholes. He has no incentive to behave.” Choco sits on my bed and kicks off her heels.

  “It was a mistake. Let’s not talk about it.” I yawn. “My chest is sore from being rescued and my throat’s killing me.”

  Choco takes a water bottle out of her purse. “Here, are you going to take the tablet?”

  “Not right now. I want to read the package insert. I have seventy-two hours.”

  “Yeah, but you’re already at twenty-four hours. Am I right?” She sets the water bottle on my nightstand and picks up a fitness magazine I have lying around.

  I heave a deep sigh. “Can you imagine twenty-four hours ago I had the night to last a lifetime. And now, I’m paying for it.”

  “He was that good?” Her eyes gleam with renewed interest.

  “Well practiced and skillful, yes.” I lie down and hug my pillow. “He acted like he was in love with me, and I went along willingly. It was everything I dreamed of and more.”

  “That good and you don’t want a repeat performance?”

  I close my eyes, shaking my head. “I got too emotional. I started crying after the first time. It was so overwhelming, like he knew me better than I knew myself and then it hit me. I walked away from him five years ago.”

  “You did it for a good reason. You wanted to be a doctor.”

  A lump rises in my throat. “But now, I’m not going to be a doctor. I’m a failure.”

  “You’re not. Don’t listen to what Eric says.”

  “You think he broke up with me because I was failing anatomy?”

  Choco flips the bedcovers aside and grabs a pillow. “If that’s the reason, I say good riddance.”

  “I mean, both his parents are surgeons at Mass General. His mother has an endowed chair in orthopedic research. His dad is department chair in cardio-thoracic surgery. He doesn’t want to marry a failure. Makes sense.”

  “Evie.” Choco clamps my arm. “Stop analyzing this. He refused to tell you the reason, didn’t he? All he said was, ‘I can’t do this anymore. Let’s cool it for a bit.’ Nothing about you failing anatomy.”

  “He doesn’t return my texts.”

  “You shouldn’t text him.” Choco’s voice is soft, her eyes half closed.

  I reach over and turn off the light. “Should I text Romeo?”

  “Yeah, somehow I don’t think Romeo’s a real ass. He might play one on TV, but…”

  I’m bone tired and when she drifts off, I tuck myself into my bed and struggle to stay awake. Romeo’s not a real ass. He just plays one on TV. No, no. He is real. He treated me like a booty call. He walked out on me. Didn’t even offer me a ride. And it hurt. I want to be cherished and loved. Is that too much to ask?

  # # #

  Middle of the week is always busy, what with the Sunshine Retirement Center’s hump day outing and the lunch special we run—two eat for the price of one.

  Kuya Carlos’ voice is hoarse. “We’re out of lechón kawali. Danny’s run to the store. Won’t be ready until dinner.”

  “But, Mr. Dee waited all week for lechón. Can’t we scrounge up something?” I scribble on my pad and shove it in his face. “Please?”

  “Choco had a big order come through. Sorry.”

  “Ah… ask her if she can change one of them.” I yank the order slip. “How about some chicken katsu instead?”

  “Chicken katsu. Chicken katsu. Are you a lunatic?” He throws the order slip at me. “That is not a substitute any self-respecting Pinoy chef from CCA-Manila would approve of. Sorry.”

  I fiddle through the rest of the orders. Table of four. Lechón kawali (pork), bistek tagalog (beef), bangus sisig (fish), crispy dinuguan (blood stew with crispy pork cubes). Meat eaters. Next. Table for two. Diet sodas. Lechón kawali and mango tofu salad—no pork, no shrimp. Ah… a meat eater and a vegetarian. Maybe they’ll take kangkong (water spinach) tofu, hold the chorizo (pork sausage) bits.

  “How about this one?” I point at the slip.

  “Genie’s table. You deal with it.”

  I note the location. Kare-kare room table fifteen. They have to understand. Mr. Dee’s an old man. He gets a plate of lechón kawali every week. It’s the highlight of his existence. I can’t let two fru fru chicks hop over him because they want to “experience” lechón and waste most of it.

  I corral Genie as she sashays to the soda fountain to refill her ice tea pitcher.

  “You’re looking so pretty today.” I kiss her and smooth a curl over her forehead.

  “What do you want?” She rolls her big, green eyes—another one of her recessive gene expressions.

  “Table fifteen. Are they girls on a diet? Can I cadge the lechón for Mr. Dee? You know Mr. Dee, don’t you?”

  “The geezer with the magnifier glasses and old golf cap?”

  “Well, that’s one way to describe him, but he’s my friend and he kind of gets off on the lechón.”

  “Ha, ha. Guess you always liked older men.” She smirks. “Sure, ask table fifteen yourself.”

  “Thanks.” I press my black barong, female style mind you, over my black jeans and stride to the kare-kare room, table fifteen.

  Ding dong! It’s R
omeo and the blonde, screen name Mildred Venables. The only problem, she’s dolled up and looking nothing like a math nerd at UC San Diego, and he’s, well, he’s as smooth and spiff as any Pinoy actor has a right to be.

  Too late. They see me. Romeo’s mouth turns down as if I’m exactly the wrong person he wants to see. Which, in a way, I am, because I’m about to pull his lechón. And honey, if you know Filipino men, you don’t pull lechón from a man, especially lechón kawali. Okay, maybe lechón baboy, the entire roast pig, is worth dying for. But lechón kawali, the pan-fried version, at least ranks a fist fight.

  Considering the way he’s flaunting No Compute Barbie in front of me, I’ll take the risk.

  I press on a saccharine no-sugar, all-Splenda smile.

  “Hello, your server is temporarily serving other customers. Is there something I can get you?” Tapioca balls up your nose, a longanisa sausage up your ahem, buko in your brain.

  “Oh, we’re fine. Thanks.” Romeo clears his throat several times. “Evangeline, I’m not sure you’ve met Doris.”

  Doris, as in Day? I raise an eyebrow. “Hello, nice to meet you. Has the binomial expansion factored into your universe yet?”

  Doris gives me the Klingon stink eye. “What happened to your ice machine? My water’s lukewarm.”

  Try holding it between your legs if you want it fugly cold. I take her water. “Let me get you another glass. By the way, there’s a slight problem with your order.”

  “Oh, really?” Doris turns to Romeo. “I told you I wanted to go somewhere else.”

  He blanches, if that’s possibly for a deliciously tan man to do. “Let’s hear what the waitress has to say before you go ballistic.”

  Yeah, like Klingon ballistic. I slide a sticky caramelized smile her direction, courtesy of the waitress.

  “Actually, it’s the deep fried fatty pork belly. I’m afraid we’re out of it.”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Doris chips in before Romeo can answer. “I would have been utterly disgusted watching you eat that dirty pig.”

  She turns to me, the waitress. “Can you recommend a replacement? Something vegan?”

  “Actually yes, may I suggest the mixed greens, water spinach, Chinese broccoli, straw mushrooms, with tofu? We’ll remove the spicy sausage garnish and dried shrimp paste, of course.”

  Doris clasps her hands. “That will be perfect.”

  I hardly dare to glance at Romeo. I can feel the waves of murderous hatred oozing from his pores. Instead, I take Doris’ water glass to the ice machine and fill it.

  Genie reappears at my side with the iced tea pitcher.

  “Everything taken care of,” I tell her. “They’ll take the vegetable delight, hold the sausage and shrimp paste.” I hand her the glass of ice. “For Bleachy Blonde.”

  Genie narrows her eyes. “I’m going to slip lard into her food.”

  “Do it, it’ll make her come back for more. Good for business.”

  I saunter back to the kitchen and correct the order slips.

  “Lechón crisis taken care of.” I wink at Carlos.

  He winks back. “Go get them, tigress. I was peeking and you’ve got one steamed man out there. What’s he doing with Bike Thin Barbie?”

  “Kuya?” I pat his arm. “Let’s forget about him. He’s no longer our Romeo. He’s a big movie star now.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you had a crush on him. But hey, you think this means I can take you to Julia’s wedding?”

  “Aren’t you taking Choco?” I grab a napkin and wipe the sweat off my face. The kitchen is hot, but stealing men from both of my sisters is not exactly how I envisioned my mental health break would turn out.

  He yells at Danny who’s returned with the pork belly, then wipes his hands on his apron. “Choco and I are good friends. She wants me to take you so you won’t feel so left out when Romeo shows up with Genie.”

  “I don’t believe this.” I slap the sides of my head. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t give a shit about Romeo. He and Genie can have a nice life. I’m going back to medical school in a few weeks.”

  I surprise myself with this announcement. Really? I am? But I forge on when I spot Danny, Victor, and Thomas, the assistant cooks and bus boys craning their necks. My father would love to hear this and it might mean getting my grounding sentence removed.

  “Yes,” I shout loudly enough to be heard over the sizzling oil and banging of pots and pans. “I have a special session set up with Dr. Chu, the anatomy professor. In exchange for helping him with his website and organizing all of his lectures, he’ll quiz me the rest of the summer and give me a passing grade.”

  Okay, this is not a lie. Dr. Chu has been emailing me. I just haven’t responded.

  “That’s great.” Carlos wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the cheek. “Our little Evie’s going to be a doctor. Mmwah!”

  “Okay, okay, get back to cooking.” I push out of his arms. “Let me get Mr. Dee his lechón.”

  Victor passes it to me. “Lechón kawali for Mr. Dee!”

  I grab it and turn, stopping face to chest with a rather angry man. Romeo’s nostrils steam and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. His muscles bulge and he resembles a raging cartoon bull.

  “Hey, no customers in the kitchen.” Carlos comes to the rescue.

  Romeo stares him down but doesn’t move. Not even when Carlos waves a cleaver at him.

  “That my lechón?” He makes a swipe for the plate.

  “Sorry, Mr. Dee’s. Talk to your server.” I swing my hips past him.

  He sticks to my side. “I did. She said you changed the order.”

  “It’s for your own good. Helped you score points with Bulimic Barbie. She thinks you’re a vegan hero.” I push the swinging door open and run into Mama.

  “Oh, there you are, Romeo,” Mama says. She’s focused on Romeo as if I don’t I even exist, so I keep walking.

  “How come you didn’t tell me your mother’s in the hospital?” My mother’s voice carries and stops me in my tracks.

  I’m afraid Mr. Dee’s lechón is getting cold, so I stick it under the warming lights and stalk Mama and Romeo back to the kare-kare side of the restaurant.

  “She’s doing better,” he answers. “They installed a stent and she should be coming home tomorrow.”

  “Oh, my,” my mother says. “And here I thought she wasn’t speaking to me. Will you let her know I’m praying for her?”

  Heart attack? Tita Elena had a heart attack? Was it the morning Romeo walked out on me? Oh, shit. I should have let him explain.

  “Of course, Tita Anna, the first person she asked for when she regained consciousness was you. Please visit. She doesn’t know why you haven’t stopped by yet.”

  “Let me go now. Which hospital?”

  “Mercy Hospital, I’ll call the nurse’s station and let them know you’re on your way.”

  I hear kissing sounds as they say farewell, so I beat my way back to the warming lights for Mr. Dee’s lechón.

  Gone. I gape around. Who took the lechón?

  “Genie!” I yell as I make my way through the patio. “Where’s Mr. Dee’s lechón?”

  “Mr. Dee left already.” She smirks, smacking her bubblegum. “The Sunshine bus showed up five minutes ago.”

  She points to Doris Not-A-Good-Day sitting at table fifteen with a plate of lechón in front of her. “I told her we were out of tofu. So sorry.”

  Romeo returns just in time for the Wrath of the Barbaric Barbie. She rises, Godzilla-like, with a loud shriek. In an epic display of female dominance, she picks up the plate of deep-fried lechón garnished with cilantro and lime and smashes it over Romeo’s head.

  Owie, Chihuahua!

  Chapter 16

  “Romeo, Romeo, wake up.” I wipe his face with a wet napkin while Choco sweeps up the broken plate and pork fragments.

  Papa, ever the man in charge, has removed Doris Make-My-Day from the premises. A group of teenage boys are laughing over the video they took and Geni
e is busy knocking smartphones with them to get the video and exchanging contact information or phone viruses or whatever kids exchange these days.

  “Romeo?” I hold an ice cube to his forehead where a lump is developing.

  He groans and swats my hand, then his eyes open, unfocused.

  Giggle. He’s definitely cute cross-eyed. But then, he’s cute whichever way I look. Swoon.

  “Where am I? What happened?” His eyelids flutter. “Am I hurt?”

  “You’ll be okay. You got hit by a flying pig.” I can’t help but smile at his confused expression.

  He gingerly touches his forehead and tries to sit.

  “Whoa, let me help.” I take full advantage of his incapacitated situation and swing his arm over my shoulder.

  Genie is still flirting with the boys, so the coast is clear. I help Romeo stagger behind the beaded curtains to my parents’ office.

  “Here, take a seat and I’ll get you an Aleve and a cup of water.” I guide him to my dad’s executive chair.

  “Sure.” He wipes his eyes and rubs his head. “Did Doris leave?”

  “Yeah, Papa escorted her out, but he didn’t call the police.”

  I open my dad’s locker and extract the painkiller then step outside to grab a glass of water. Now that Romeo’s awake I need to figure out how to apologize to him for ruining his date. Not that I didn’t enjoy every minute of it. But he must be mortified.

  Oh, and with his mother in the hospital, I feel even more guilty. He was probably driving her to the hospital and had no time to leave me a note. He even left me a bagel and coffee. I suck so bad.

  Romeo has his head in his hands when I return. The dazed look is gone, replaced by raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

  “Do you mind telling me why you messed around with my order?” He takes the pill from me and chases it with ice water.

  I slide onto the desk in front of him. “Mr. Dee, you know, the old guy. He loves our lechón. It’s the highlight of his week.”

  “You could have asked nicely. I would gladly give my lechón to Mr. Dee. You know that.” His voice is as polished as a schoolmaster’s and just as reasonable. It makes me feel even lower.